The Method
by Skylines Turn
Summary: Logan Mitchell had a steady path to his future for as long as he could remember. But since yesterday, everything has changed. Logan/Kendall one-shot.


**Author's Note: **I have no idea where this came from. I started working on Back Home and I just feel so blocked with it, but don't worry - it'll get updated soon. This is my first Kogan story, which is funny because they are my favorite. I've felt really inspired by Taylor Swift's new album and I might write a bunch more one-shots based on that album, we'll see. This one is specifically based off of "Everything Has Changed."

A big thank you to my favorite person and beta, Danielle. You da best.

Thank you for reading and please enjoy :)

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Big Time Rush or any of the characters.

* * *

Logan Mitchell didn't want this. Who would? Actually, scratch that. He could think of tens of thousands of people who would want this right now. The only problem? About 99.9% of those people were girls he didn't even know. But shouldn't that fact flatter him more? The fact that there were so many other people (wait, girls- not just people, definitely girls) that yearned for the position he found himself in… that should make him feel on top of the world.

Right?

No.

Logan Mitchell was a boy- wait, no – a MAN. He was a man with a brain; a very intricate and hard-working brain and he would figure this out. He would use all of those big words and phrases from those medical magazines he had read over the years. He would remember the processes he read in his science textbooks to analyze his current position and how he should feel and act about it all. He would use scientific thinking and logic to resolve the situation at hand.

But what if he didn't want to fix it?

No!

Logan DEFINITELY wanted to fix this. He wanted to fix this? He wanted to fix this.

A weight shifting to Logan's side broke him from his storm of thoughts, snapping the genius back to reality for a quick moment. The sheets ruffled against his skin, giving him goose bumps along his milky arms, each of his hairs standing on end. He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes, snapping back into panic mode. He tried so hard to replay how he got here, how his brain wouldn't stop him the night before. He never meant to let this happen, especially with so much on the line.

Logan Mitchell was careful. He was logical and intelligent and responsible. He went to the library for fun. He tutored kids three grade levels ahead of him. He won first place in the school science fair every year since he turned ten.

Logan Mitchell had a steady path to his future for as long as he could remember.

Logan Mitchell barely made it onto the peewee hockey team in elementary school. He skipped his first homework assignment the first day he met his first best friend. He ate half a pizza, a pint of ice cream and two corn dogs at his best friend's sixteenth birthday party. He got dragged to Los Angeles to be in some stupid boy band because he was a good friend.

Logan Mitchell hadn't had a steady path to his future for as long as he could remember.

Logan squeezed his eyes shut, licking his chapped lips, wondering where he went wrong. How did he end up here? Why couldn't he stop this from happening? Why couldn't he decide exactly which "this" he wanted to stop? Why was the thought of thousands of jealous girls making him smirk at the ceiling?

Shaking his head, Logan finally remembered the scientific method. His first (inanimate) best friend, something he could always rely on. The scientific method could surely get him out of this; it had always been there to help him out of many sticky situations. And this one was… well, it was sticky and then some.

Sighing quietly, Logan rolled on his side, staring at the calming blue walls surrounding him; his own personal prison. He recalled the thick pages of his favorite scientific textbook, one his grandfather gave him. The binding was broken and deteriorating, the pages yellowing more with every touch. It was the best gift Logan had ever received; he wished he could thank his grandfather again for setting him on such an interesting path so early on in his life. The words appeared across Logan's mind with ease.

_**Ask a question.**_

Logan sighed. There were too many to choose from, too many loose ends to tie up, too little time to really make an incredibly detailed and informed decision.

_**Why am I here?**_

Logan shrugged to himself, not exactly loving the question he picked. It was extremely vague, especially for someone who considered himself a "man of science." But was this situation exactly science-y? No, so it would do. He rubbed the side of his head for a moment, recalling the next step.

_**Do background research.**_

Logan groaned. Loud enough that he turned his head back to see if the weight had stirred at all. Deciding that he couldn't care less at this point, Logan faced the blue wall ahead once more.

Kendall had been Logan's best friend since he stood up for him at peewee hockey registration in fourth grade. While the moms completed lengthy paperwork, the boys worked the ice, just skating around to their hearts' desires. Logan wasn't exactly skilled on the ice, but his mother and father were concerned about how much time the young boy had spent with his nose in the piles of rented books from the regional library. Even Logan's grandfather had put it into perspective for him: smart people stayed active, too. So, Logan went.

The only problem with this sport was the contact. Logan hated it. He didn't want to hurt anyone and he definitely didn't want to be the one getting hurt. He spent the majority of the time on the ice circling the perimeter of the rink, avoiding the puck and other players at all costs. Eventually, Logan's strategy failed as a lanky blond bumped him into the Plexiglas, dropping him straight down to the ice. As his bottom hit the cold, wet ground, Logan groaned. Why did hockey have to be so important in this town? He should have waited for softball season, he thought. At least softball didn't involve ice and sharp skates.

"Hello?"

Logan looked up and noticed the same rude player from before, extending his hand down to help Logan up, helping him adjust his helmet and padding, picking up his stick from the ice.

"Hope I didn't hurt you," the other player said. "I didn't even know you were there, haven't seen you play this whole time."

Logan offered a weak smile, knowing his strategy had somewhat paid off. He took the stick from the player, holding onto the wall for support.

"I'm Kendall," the blonde offered a toothy grin. "Hockey is my favorite, my dad said I'm the best out here."

"Logan," he replied to Kendall. "My dad told me I had to do this."

Kendall giggled, obviously amused by the fact that Logan was so against being there at that exact moment.

"Don't worry," he smiled more. "I think you'll love it. Maybe."

Logan finally offered a small grin as Kendall led him back to the other players, finally introducing him to everyone else. The boys decided to start another scrimmage and Kendall, being the leader that he was, picked Logan to be on his team.

Logan Mitchell barely made it onto the peewee hockey team in elementary school.

Logan smiled at the memory, swearing he could feel the chill of the ice shoot up his spine in this very bed. He closed his eyes, thinking of how he went on to really appreciate the sport, making the team every year he tried out, having Kendall's encouragement every step of the way. He thought of the locker room pep talks Kendall would give the team before breaking off, giving Logan a mini speech to have as his own.

Logan thought of the last hockey game they played, how Kendall brought them all to victory. He remembered seeing Mrs. Knight pull him into a tight embrace as everyone in the stands cheered his name, his mother pushing her son's sweaty hair back, looking in his eyes, telling him something Kendall would only repeat to Logan later that night at their usual after-game sleepovers.

"Your dad would be so proud of you, Kendall."

Kendall didn't like to talk about his dad anymore and Logan didn't ask. Some things were easier that way. When Kendall wanted to talk, he would. Logan was always there and Logan always listened.

Logan listened the first time a girl broke Kendall's heart. He tried to remember the name, but he knew she wasn't right for him. When Kendall asked Logan why he didn't have a girlfriend, Logan just laughed. _A scientist or doctor doesn't have time for a girlfriend_, his grandfather used to tell him. _Love would come without effort_.

A year passed and Logan was suddenly in California. He's here because Kendall is an idiot and wanted to help James achieve his dreams of becoming a superstar. However, this plan involved all of them and Logan couldn't let Kendall down, not when Kendall was the one who said hello on his first day of peewee hockey.

Logan sighed. He didn't like where this was headed, even though he knew it was the truth. All of the memories and thoughts that had consumed him for nights, for days, for weeks… they were all finally coming together. Logan had fought this for so long that he was too tired to stop it from forming in his head now. Or maybe he wasn't tired at all. Maybe he wanted this.

_**Hypothesis.**_

_**Logan Mitchell is in love with his best friend, Kendall Knight. **_

Logan mouthed the words silently, eyes squeezed shut so tightly he could see stars. This wasn't right; this wasn't what was on his path he believed in for so long. He didn't want this to be the reason why he was here, why he was in this bed next to Kendall right now.

After muttering silent thoughts to no one, Logan tried to start the process over again, picking a different question to begin with.

_How did I get here?_

_How did I let this happen?_

_Why did I kiss him?_

_Why didn't he stop me?_

_Why did I like it so much?_

_Who am I?_

None of those questions seemed better than the first. In fact, Logan knew they were all worse, each one more incriminating than the question preceding it. He swore to himself, knowing that giving up now would negate all of his faith he had in the scientific method. Sighing quietly, Logan remembered the next step.

_**Test your hypothesis by conducting an experiment.**_

Logan shifted his weight to his other side, staring at the body next to him. Suddenly, things felt real. He studied Kendall's every feature: his sandy blonde hair all matted down against his forehead. The dark, bushy eyebrows he considered his own trademark. The nose and cheeks, sprinkled with the faintest of freckles, only highlighting his perfect skin. His soft, tender lips, slightly swollen from what Logan remembered was his own damn fault. The cut of his jaw line, forming a beautiful angle to complete the face of his best friend.

Logan swallowed hard. Did he really think all those things about Kendall? Of course he did. Logan had loved all those things about Kendall since the day they met. It was only now that Logan was letting himself feel the emotions the features forced from him; he was finally letting Kendall release the butterflies in his stomach.

Logan turned on his back, staring at the ceiling as he remembered the details from the night prior. How it was only an innocent pizza and beer night, watching some movies with his best friend at his new apartment across town. It was completely normal until Kendall gave him a tour of the new place, complete with a stop in the bedroom. Kendall's phone rang and he excused himself, allowing Logan to take in every single finishing touch. While he could appreciate the art and bedding Kendall had chosen for himself, it was one single frame on the nightstand that threw Logan over the edge.

It was the photo from the time Logan ate half a pizza, a pint of ice cream and two corn dogs at his best friend's sixteenth birthday party. Kendall's arm was slung around Logan's narrow shoulders, the two sharing a laugh over something unimportant to Logan now. He studied how their eyes met, how genuinely happy Logan was when Kendall was around, when he was there to help him take the walls Logan spent so long building up, down.

"I love that picture," Kendall stood in the doorway, smiling at Logan as he held the frame. "Made mom give me that frame from the mantle back home."

Logan placed it back to its original spot, Kendall moving closer to him.

"It's not home without it," Kendall's smile remained as he motioned for Logan to sit on the edge of the bed with him.

"You know, this might sound stupid," Logan began, laughing quietly to himself, looking down before back up at his friend. "But this feels more like home than Minnesota does."

Kendall chuckled and nodded.

"Los Angeles is our home now," he smiled. Logan shook his head, sighing. Kendall's smile fell into a frown.

"Not Los Angeles," Logan stated, his eyes meeting Kendall's. "I don't feel like this in my apartment, I sure as hell don't feel like this at James and Carlos' place."

"What do you mean?" Kendall said, his brows furrowed.

Logan paused for another moment, his brain hard at work. He tried to remember the method, but he couldn't for his own life. It was gone. The years of research and studying were absent and Logan was left with raw, unadulterated emotion.

"You," Logan said quietly, the word barely registering a sound. "You make me feel like I'm home."

_**Analyze your data and draw a conclusion.**_

_**Logan Mitchell is in love with his best friend, Kendall Knight. **_

All of the data added up, every memory matched his theory. Logan couldn't think or analyze his way out of this. He panicked quietly to himself. Love was something Logan only knew from a family standpoint, only dabbling in it when it came to the opposite sex. But surely, he could recognize it now. Laying in bed with his best friend, both of them naked… this was the result of love.

Looking back over at Kendall, his mind went blank. Suddenly, he didn't know this person. Would he still be the same when he woke up? Would every memory up until last night still count towards something? Hoping he wouldn't have to start over, Logan reached out, brushing Kendall's cheek as gently as he could. A small grin stretched out across Kendall's lips, a tiny sigh escaping his mouth.

"Logie…" he barely whispered. Logan's body went rigid, the thoughts – oh god, the thoughts! They were all real, this was all real and there was nothing Logan could do to stop it.

"Yeah?" Logan whispered back quietly, his voice wavering, holding back every tiny detail he analyzed in the minutes past.

"You're still here," Kendall's eyes opened slowly, the piercing green meeting Logan's worried chocolate brown orbs, sensing that the brunet had been alone in his own thoughts for too long. "You didn't run."

Logan could only nod slowly, shrugging a tiny bit.

"Look, all I know is that since yesterday," he sighed, looking at Kendall still. "Everything has changed."

Kendall smiled, chuckling softly as he wrapped his arm around Logan, pulling him closer.

"Nothing between us could ever change," Kendall stated, rubbing Logan's back in a soothing pattern. "This is who we have always meant to be."

Logan's thoughts raced back to the peewee game, to the science fairs, to the hours staying up playing pointless video games, to tutoring his friends in every subject, to moving to Los Angeles because Kendall said he should… and he smiled. He looked at Kendall and smiled for the first time for the rest of his life.

_**Report your results.**_

Logan's hypothesis was correct. He knew all along that Kendall was what he wanted; that there was no one else he could trust with his life, his thoughts, his feelings. He pressed his lips to Kendall's tenderly, letting the anxiety from his over thinking seep out. His lips turned into a smile, letting all scientific reasoning for his relationship leave his mind once and for all.

Nothing, yet everything, had changed.


End file.
